


Three months, one day

by sangueuk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangueuk/pseuds/sangueuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim wakes up in an empty bed. He worries.<br/><b>Warnings</b>: none<br/>.<br/><b>Author’s notes</b>: written for  st_respect prompt #2 challenge, ‘Ain’t No Sunshine When He’s Gone’.<br/>Intriguing snippet: <i> Three months for Jim to bag Bones and get him into his bed. Naked.</i></p><p><i>And just three months and one night to lose him.<br/></i></p><p><b>Disclaimer</b>: I mean no offence and court no profits, these boys belong to others more talented and deserving, I merely borrow them, play a while then return them all cleaned up and smiley.</p><p>Thanks to awarrington    for beta work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three months, one day

**Three Months, One Day**

So there it was. It had taken just three months from beginning to end.

Three months for Jim to bag Bones and get him into his bed. Naked.

And just three months and one night to lose him.

Hell, it was quite an achievement in some kind of way, he thought.

Jim couldn’t move. Bones’ side of the bed was cold and he didn’t want to venture into it, despite the tantalizing thought that if he did, he’d be able to still smell him. Even though he was gone.

Jim’s bladder ached, his cock ached, hell his ass ached like Bones was still _there,_ still inside him. And boy, that had hurt too until it stopped being burn and became some kind of amazing I-didn’t-know-I-needed-this-so-badly-till-I-tasted-it ecstasy, where the achy pain of _not_ doing it hurt more than doing it.

Thinking about what had slipped through his fingers made Jim’s throat tight and raw, like he’d been stretched from the inside, by heat, pain and anger, memories hitching a ride on tears threatening to spill from someone who hadn’t cried since he was twelve.

He rolled onto his belly and hated himself just a little bit for giving in, for burying his face in the pillow and inhaling _him_ , Bones. Shit.

He swaddled himself in the coverlet, slipping an arm under the pillow, rolling his forehead against where Bones had lain the previous night, the smell of his shampoo, the sharp scent of his skin bringing him back. It made Jim’s morning wood like damned mahogany.

He rolled the tip of his cock under his thumb while he went over the details of the night before, filing away each picture, sound and smell somewhere safe, to drag out whenever he needed them, because the one thing that Jim’s sharp mind was in danger of forgetting, he realized, was that even _he_ could find true connection, even if it had been just the once.

It was raining, the roar on the window, against the glass roof of the lobby, should have been soothing; it would have been if he hadn’t been alone, if Bones had been there, if Jim had had his legs wrapped around that strong back, if he could have felt those fingers digging into the back of his neck one more time.

Lazily humping the mattress, he remembered how the night before, Bones had sprinted in the rain from the bar to the hover-tram stop; how he’d cursed with rage at missing the last one of the night. At the time, Jim imagined a fine mist of blue around his friend’s head like in a cartoon, a miasma of profanity, drifting through Bones’ rain soaked hair. Jim couldn’t help smirking and nodding sarcastically, as amused by Bones’ ability to snark as he’d been turned on by the drawl, the hazel eyes flashing with emotion, those long, tan fingers weaving about as he spoke. Jim angled his hips harder into the bed.

And Jim wasn’t really sure how it had happened. He couldn’t put it down to wishing it so bad, because if _that’s_ how life worked, well, he’d have seen way more of his Mom, he’d have gotten a hand-job from Pike and he would have turned Frank into a toad years ago. All he knew was that one moment Bones was bitching, and the next, his lips, those fat, beautiful, whiskey laced, sinful lips were right up against his and he hadn’t even made the first move.

“Shit,” he moaned into the pillow, mouth sticking to cotton, recalling the slick, wet slide of Bones’ tongue on his, the tug, pull of his teeth, the suction of his tongue later on his cock - _fuck_ , he was so close. He thought vaguely that he ought to throw these sheets out, wasn’t fair on the cadets doing laundry detail…and then they were in the back of the robocab and Jim had never been kissed so hard before, so hungrily. It figured though, the guy had been married, probably not had any action in for _ever_. And he’d untangled Bones’ cock fisting him hard until he came all over Jim’s hand, hot breath against his ear, grumbling even while kissing him, drawling about what an annoying little fuck Jim was with his pretty mouth.

Jim squeezed the base of his cock, took a breath, then moved his hand to his ass, stroking himself, remembering how Bones’ big, wide, gentle hands had prepped him so patiently before he—

 _What the—?_

Cold _something_ , all down his neck. Then he heard a chuckle.

“It’s still rainin,” from behind him, and Jim grinned into the pillow, the leap in his chest better than any orgasm could ever be. Smell of coffee, bagels or something and the little downpour that Bones created by shaking his hair over Jim’s neck wasn’t about to stop. Being cold had never felt so good.

“No shit?” Jim said.

Bones pulled at the covers and doused him in chill air.

“Hey, you’re not getting in here – you’re cold and wet!” Jim protested and, as if to prove it, Bones placed an ice-cold palm on Jim’s buttock.

“So, what you been doin’ since I went out hunting and gathering?” Jim felt two lubed fingers dip between his buttocks. “You know jacking off can make you blind? It’s a scientific fact proven since the nineteenth century, an’ we don’t want anything to happen to those pretty eyes of yours, do we?”

“No, Bones,” Jim grunted, twisting his head to look at him, still wearing his coat, face shiny with rain, eyebrows quirked, big, innocent eyes and all teasing tongue while he licked at the insides of a bagel. Jim pushed his ass up to meet his hand, “Hey, am I gonna get some?”

“I already shared,” and Bones’ face broke into a solar hot smile when he saw that Jim had worked it out.

“Eew, not cream-cheese-lube?” Jim protested when two fingers breeched him.

Three months, two days and counting…

~FIN~


End file.
